


Because The Night

by Beatles_and_Bellarke



Category: IT - Stephen King, The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 13:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatles_and_Bellarke/pseuds/Beatles_and_Bellarke
Summary: The hours between dusk and dawn are Boris's favorites.  He can love himself and Stan then.





	Because The Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Evanaissante](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evanaissante/gifts), [porcia_catonis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcia_catonis/gifts), [SpicyWolfsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyWolfsbane/gifts).

_December, 1983_

Night was Boris’s aesthetic. He preferred darker clothes to match his pitch-black hair and near-gothic personality. His entire being thrived under the moonlight. Stanley was the opposite. He shone in the sun. That was what drew Boris’s planetary orbit. This ball of sunshine and kindness brought out the best in him. Tonight was no exception. Stan’s steady ear, warm eyes and reassuring grin were wholly focused on Boris ranting to him.

“I just do not know what to do. I have tried to bond with Richie. Some days it goes well but other days, we act like strangers.” The frustration was apparent in Boris’s voice. Stanley took his hand gently, tracing circles on the top.

“Richie is a jackass. He doesn’t enjoy socializing so he’s rude to those he doesn’t know well. But he’s a good guy and he warms up to new people in his life but it takes an awful lot of time. You two will get there.” Stan’s kiss was light on Boris’s cheek but he felt the press of it for days.

“You are right of course. I wish it would happen faster.”

“For now, let’s enjoy these nice liquors I snuck us.” Stan’s eyes glinted mischeviously. This was the Kolibri Boris fell in love with. They clinked glasses, yelled “Bottom’s Up!” and downed their glasses in seconds flat. After an hour (and several more drinks), they laid out in the grassy field behind the Barrens. Stargazing was Boris’s favorite activity. The two boys lay as close as they dared, despite being alone in the wide field.

In the time since Boris arrived in Derry from Russia, these nightly adventures became a staple. Often it was a group of them and they’d all sleep outside in the stars.

But tonight of all nights, Boris and Stanley managed to sneak away from their friends. This solitude was preferable. They could hold hands, kiss and do everything else that were not comfortable for either of them in public, not to mention highly illegal.

“What did you think of me when you met me?” The question came out of nowhere and hit Boris, knocking the air right out of him.

“I…thought.” But then he stopped himself. He turned to face Stan. He thought it was going to be easier to look Stanley in the eyes when dislodging these truths from his throat, but it made the task that much more difficult.

The absolute love in Stan’s eyes clouded over in anxiety. Boris could practically see the cogs in Kolibri’s brain turning. He took a deep breath and started over. 

“I thought you were the most beautiful boy I had ever laid eyes on. You were dashing and kind. You warmed up to me right away despite the fact I was not from this country and did not speak your language. Everyone else has treated me like an outsider. They look at me funny and try to figure me out. You do not do that. It’s refreshing to be seen for me. I appreciate it immensely.” He brought Stan’s hand to his lips. Stan shivered at the contact.

“Of course! It’s the least I can do for my _secret _boyfriend.” Boris’s laugh resounded in Stan’s ears. There was a musicality to it. He struggled to find his voice again.

“What about you?”

“I thought you were a dork.” A noise escaped Boris. A barking sound. He shot Stan a funny glance when he didn’t hear an explanation for the adjective. “Not a bad dork,” Stan winked at him. “But a dork nonetheless. You can’t expect me to look at someone who loves _Star Wars_ and not call them a dork. I also was slightly intimidated by you.” Stan nudged Boris's arm.

“What’s wrong with _Star Wars_?” Boris fake gasped. "And you were intimidated by me? Was it the all black?"

“It’s just cheesy as hell. And yes, your wardrobe certainly did not quell my nervousness.” At this they both laughed, looking up into space.

“Do you think there’s other life out there? Speaking of _Star Wars_.”

“Man walked on Moon. Anything is possible.” Boris nodded, sagely. Stan couldn’t argue with that logic.

“Bo, I’m glad we found each other. I missed having someone to talk to about just fun stuff. The others are so focused on their own issues. We’ve lost touch.” Stanley was turned away from Boris but he could tell from the sound of his voice, the other boy had been crying earlier today. No one makes Kolibri cry and gets away with it. Even if it’s just a distance issue with his other friends. They needed to work it out.

“You should talk to the others. You miss them, Kolibri. You spend so much time with me and while I love your company, I’d prefer to see you happier with your friends sometimes too.” Stanley started at the accuracy in Boris’s words. He did miss his friends but he also loved Boris so much. It was hard to balance the two.

“You’re right. I do need friend time. This weekend I will call them all up and we can go to the quarry together for a swim.” Stanley’s smile was brighter and larger than even an hour ago. It dazzled anyone cast within it’s vicinity.

“Good. I love you, Kolibri but you are dedicating your entire being to me. And I do not want you to tire.”

“I’m perfectly…fine.” Stanley yawned loudly and Boris giggled softly. A low snort popped out which he quickly recovered.

“We must sleep soon, Kolibri.”

“You’re right, Bo. You are welcome to sleep over if you’d like." Boris said he'd love to. "Alright then! Let’s go inside and get in pajamas.”

The two boys walked across the field back to Stan’s home, hands brushing gently, always parallel but never crossing.

They laid on Stan’s bed together, reading books and sharing fleeting smiles. Slowly, Stan passed out. Boris watched him sleep. While of course he was handsome in states of awakeness, Boris’s favorite Stan was the one right in front of him. Breathing even, body still. Tranquility at its finest. Boris brushed a stray curl off Stan’s warm forehead as he too drifted off to sleep.


End file.
